


A Wanted Storm

by Maplesyrup



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Dark Castle, F/M, Magical Storms, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Rumbelle - Freeform, Sex, Smut, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-15
Updated: 2019-03-15
Packaged: 2019-11-18 14:06:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18121961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maplesyrup/pseuds/Maplesyrup
Summary: Strange, unwanted storms disturb Rumplestiltskin's spellwork while his little maid is nowhere in sight.





	A Wanted Storm

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you autumnstar and nerdrumple for the beta help and wonderful friendship <3

_ In the Dark Castle… _

  
Thunder rumbled on the edge of the sorcerer’s lands, loud enough to steal his attention from the tempestuous spell he was attempting to subdue. The thin thread of dominance he held over it slipped away like sand through his fingers.

Rumplestiltskin looked up from his work table to the tall windows of his tower and the silvery-grey clouds beyond them. He growled. It had taken weeks to track down the damn spell and days to wrestle it into some semblance of pliancy and a silly storm had wrecked all his hard work. He would have to start again.

These blasted storms were new. And frequent. And unwelcome. The same weather pattern had continued for centuries on his lands. Blankets of snow giving way to blinding, hot summers that withered back into brutal winters, the cycle repeating ad nauseum. Rainstorms happened  _ outside _ the magical boundaries of his territory. Or so they used to.

The storms came with no explanation he could discern and without warning. The air would turn thick with unspent energy, nearly snapping in electric bursts, while wickedly beautiful pewter clouds gathered overhead and began to leak their contents. The blackening mass of vapor would roil to a fever pitch, the thunder and patter of rain increasing in intensity until with one last, bone-jarring clap it would subside, folding in on itself and vanishing, the patter of droplets ceasing and the sky clearing.

If they hadn’t been such a disruption to his work, he might have tried to harness all that energy and put it to magical use.

He took a deep breath, willing the frustrated rage to subside. His magic would react hazardously to unbridled anger. Time for a nice, soothing tea break. Perhaps Belle would care to take it with him downstairs. It was lonely up in his tower, with nothing but vials and books and ingredients surrounding him, but it was also quite dangerous.

Belle was sweet, lovely. Her smiles fresh and bright. The scent of summer rain and red roses followed her every step. His darkness adored her for the little morsel of light she was, hooking into his baser desires, sly whispers of all the ways they could devour her filling his mind when she was near. He could tamp down the voice when outside of his tower but this place? This brooding, fitful place where his magic had nearly free reign? This was no place for the likes of her.

The darkness mocked him— _ Coward. Weakling _ —but his resolve held firm. He would have no part in defiling such a woman as her.

Thunder rolled closer to the tower. Loud, insistent, pulsing with its own rhythm and his thoughts turned lurid as he watched the voluptuous clouds turn over themselves, ready to spill over the ground below and to hell that it was the middle of winter. Nature would have its way.

He sighed. Everything would have its own way, eventually. 

* * *

Rumplestiltskin hoped the scents of her favorite tea and freshly-conjured cookies to go with it would draw Belle from wherever she was hiding and urge her to join him at what he’d come to internally refer to as their table.

Well, perhaps not hiding, per se. She had never truly been afraid enough of him to hide. Perhaps lost in a book. He smiled softly.  _ Yes _ , that was better. The thought of her curled up on her chaise in the large library—a book balanced on her knees, a wool throw blanket tucked around her lower half—warmed him better than the tea he sipped. She certainly lacked for no bibliospheric company. Paltry a companion though he may be, he made sure she was intellectually satisfied.

He hummed thoughtfully as he sipped. Mayhap he would join her, see what new adventure she’d found among the millions of pages he’d conjured for her pleasure. He sent a spark of magic out, pleased when it confirmed his suspicions yet confused when it returned the curious sensation of her being…too warm?

He rolled his eyes fondly. Silly thing likely had the throw tucked up to her chin, forgetting it was enchanted to keep any bit of heat from escaping so she never had to suffer a moment’s draft. She did that sometimes, the thrill of a paginated new world consuming her utterly and making her deaf to her body’s needs.

He really should join her. And tease her. Poke a bit of fun at her absorption, soak in the adorable wrinkling of her nose as she made faces at him and accused him of caring about her. He loved that game best of all. To bluster and scoff as she sent him knowing looks, to order her about with this chore or that chore knowing full well she would have none of it. Always turning his joy at their banter inward, never revealing how true her accusation was.

He ceased being master over anything outside his tower long ago. She was fully mistress here and well aware. The thought no longer troubled him in the least but he was keen to keep his affection hidden, lest her play turn to scorn. 

He had become her friend but Belle had become the second reason for everything.

Rumplestiltskin made his way on foot up to her library, little wisps of magic darting out here and there to check on her. The thunder rumbled on and he paused, noting a change in the pattern as he climbed the steps. He turned, closing his eyes to focus on the interruption of the cadence and held his breath.  _ There. _ There it was. A break in the crescendo, the normally quick swell fading to a gentle murmur before rising back up again.  _ Fascinating. _ He stood a few moments more, puzzling out what could be causing the change before a tugging desire to share what he’d found with Belle caught him with more force than his curiosity. Her interest would double his. She never could resist the chance to figure out something new, that mind of hers matching his in how quickly it would whir around a new idea.

He hurried up the steps, excitement at sharing his puzzle with Belle buoying him enough to forego magical transport. He reached the top of the stairs, his head popping up above the opening in the floor as he scanned the room for her, locating her easily. He grinned, opening his mouth to speak when a noise caught his ear and stopped his tongue in its tracks.

Belle  _ whimpered _ .

Sudden worry suffused him. Had she injured herself? Was she ill? He climbed a few more steps, trying to get a better look when she whimpered again and his heart stopped, all the blood in his body at once shooting to his cock.

It was a sound of pleasure. Carnal, feminine delight. She shifted and his gaze was suddenly filled with her on the chaise, her blue skirts and white petticoat a frothy mass around her legs as she lay on her back with a hand between them. A book lay haphazardly on the floor near the hand that dangled off the side of the chaise, fingers grasping, fisting around nothing as she writhed against the rapture of her own body.

He watched her like the foul soul he was, watched as she brought herself close to the brink before backing off, her panting moans of self-frustrated lust shooting holes through whatever decency he had that was screaming somewhere very far away for him to turn around and leave her to her privacy.

But the darkness. Oh, the gods-forsaken darkness  _ loved _ this turn of events. It howled inside him, pressing against the inside of his mind,  _ licking _ the inside of him as it begged him to  _ go take what was his by rights. _

A stuttering moan escaped her lips, the sound shooting bolts of lust to his cock and he nearly moaned out loud himself, had it not been for the rising thunder around him. Her moans increased in fervor and frequency, matching the rolls of thunder, and every sense he possessed was tuned to her. The hand clutching air shot to her bodice, tearing at the laces there and shoving the fabric down enough to paw at her breast, lifting and plumping it in her small hand, her fingers tweaking the peak of a dusky rose nipple. A needy moan rose from her mouth, her head thrashing back and forth.

He gulped around a dry throat and bit his lower lip hard, trying to stifle the whine desperate to erupt. The hand between her thighs picked up speed and she released her breast, her second hand joining the first under her skirts. She shoved them up higher, giving him a brief but sublime view of her cunt before she brought her hands back again. Her folds glistened with her arousal, her intimate skin the same color as her nipples, and he licked his lips at the thought of what she would taste like.

Her fingers plucked and swirled around her clitoris while the other plunged fingers inside her. She rocked her hips against her hands, desperate, breathless cries beginning to crest as the thunder broke the skies around them. Her back bowed in her climax, her hips thrusting in time to what he knew were the pulses of her body, matching perfectly to the pulses of thunder around them.

Realization hit him square between the eyes as she slumped back down, breasts heaving and hands falling to the side, no longer needed.

The storms…were her.

* * *

How Rumplestiltskin managed to make it back to the first floor without stopping to relieve his body of the aching pressure tormenting his cock would forever remain a mystery to him. He sat at the head of their table, doing his damnedest to level his breathing and will his erection to deflate before she arrived. Terrified she would see his lechery writ on his face, he downed cup after cup of tea until he was practically sloshing inside from it.

The light patter of her shoes on the hardwood floors had him jerking his head up and quickly conjuring a recent contract to hide behind. He swallowed, unrolling the parchment and pretending to focus on the words in front of him as she swanned in. When he chanced a look up at her over the curling top of the paper, she was busying herself with filling a cup and a plate. Her cheeks still had a pink tinge to them and his flagging erection was miraculously brought back to life at the sight. He ducked his head, growling to his pants.

“Rumple?”

He started, raising panicked eyes to hers.

“Is everything alright?”

“Yes!” 

It came out as a squeak. He cleared his throat, his cheeks heating. 

“Yes. Fine.” 

_ There _ . Much more normal.

“You look as if you’ve seen a ghost,” she smiled, “or has someone finally bested you at dealing?”

He frowned, refusing to answer for fear of what he’d blurt out. He rolled up the parchment, snapping his fingers to return it to his tower. She hummed knowingly, sliding into the chair diagonal to his, a chair far too big for such a wee thing as her. He lifted his cup to his lips for the umpteenth time.

“Have you noticed this odd bout of weather we’re having?”

“What?!” He nearly shrieked. “Yes—no—I— _ what? _ ”  

She lifted her cup, taking a small sip and nodding. 

“Yes. I thought you’d have commented on them by now. They’re so strange, so…lush.” 

The sip he’d taken slipped down the wrong pipe and he sputtered, slamming the cup down onto its saucer and sloshing tea over the rim while his lungs rebelled at the intrusion of liquid, sending him into an undignified coughing fit. Belle held out a hand, offering her assistance, a sweet, worried frown on her face but he waved her off. Lurid images filled his mind of another frown, this one drawn in pleasure as she brought herself to orgasm.

He lowered his eyes, ridding himself of the last of his coughing fit and took another bracing sip of his tea. The darkness chuckled in the back of his mind.

“Rumple,” the frown had moved to her voice, “are you afraid of the storms?”

His eyes bulged at the press of her hand against his arm, the memory of those skillful fingers plucking her wet, sensitive flesh only minutes ago fresh in his mind. He jerked his arm away, hating himself for the look of hurt that crossed her features.

“No,” he grumbled, sinking lower into his chair and avoiding her gaze.

“Oh, Rumple.” 

The pity in her voice grated on his nerves. He didn't want her pity. He wanted her pleasure. He wanted the feel of her on his tongue and his cock and— 

“It’s alright to be scared.”

He clenched his teeth hard enough to crack them.

“I’m not  _ scared _ , dearie,” he ground out. “I’m  _ busy _ . And the damned storms interrupt my  _ work _ .”

“I see.” Another dainty sip. A small nibble of a cookie, her pretty mouth closing around the morsel, her pink tongue darting out to chase a crumb.  
  
She was going to kill him.

“Well, I shouldn’t keep you, then.” She set her cup down in its saucer with a decisive clink and rose, smoothing her skirts. More images flooded his mind and he bit the inside of his mouth to keep from whining. 

“I’m sure you’d like to get back to your spells.”

He watched, dumbstruck, as she sashayed back toward the great doors at the entrance of the hall, turning at the last minute to shoot a look at him over her shoulder.

“Perhaps later we can figure out just what is causing all this strange weather.” 

* * *

Like the coward he was, he avoided her for the rest of the day, even going so far as to take dinner in his tower. A dangerous thing, as one wrong move could turn a normal, hearty meal of stew and dark bread into a colossal muck-monster hell-bent on well-spiced destruction.

He managed to avoid such a fate and worked long into the night, recouping the losses the blasted storms had wrought on his recent spellwork. He wrangled the complex mess into something more closely resembling a biddable incantation, stoppering its vial with satisfaction.

Rubbing eyes grainy with fatigue, he let out a jaw-cracking yawn. Sleep wasn’t something he previously needed, let alone indulged in, but all of that changed when Belle had come along. Wee thing and her ideas about proper schedules and mealtimes and social interaction. And that curvy little body hidden under those dresses he conjured for her, those plump, pale peach thighs and that dusky rose quim— 

He slammed his fists on the table.  _ No. _ This would end and it would end  _ tonight _ . A permanent cockstand was no way to do business. He simply had to march to Belle’s room and tell her to stop…stop what?

_ “Belle, stop creating magical storms with your release of sexual energy. It’s wreaking havoc on my spellwork.” _

How had she even done it in the first place?

He groaned, running a hand down his face and cupping his jaw. Those particular words were likely not the wisest course of action but he had to do  _ something _ . He couldn’t work around her—her  _ sexual proclivities _ . He was the Dark One! The world worked around him! Or it should, anyway. 

Sighing in resignation, he steeled his nerves, conjuring the cloud of smoke that would take him just outside Belle’s chamber door.

When the smoke cleared, it took his resolve with it and he sagged where he stood. This was hopeless. How could he look into the beautiful eyes of that bright creature he’d captured and tell her not to find pleasure in what had to be an otherwise staid and boring existence? He’d taken any chance at real happiness from her, so who the hell was he to deny her such a simple joy as the one she’d found?

He half-heartedly raised a hand to knock but dropped it, snorting in derision at himself. He was doomed. He would work around the disruptive storms she managed to conjure—though he’d damn well figure out exactly  _ how _ she had learned to do it—and deal with his new normal.

Smoke began to swirl around him as he summoned his magic once more, but a high pitched cry broke his concentration, followed by a devilish little roll of thunder.

He stared slack-jawed at the door. By the gods, the woman was insatiable. On the rare occasion he took himself in hand, it was a quick fulfillment of a function, not a deep exploration of his body. What must it be like to have the sort of curiosity about oneself that led to repeated daily bouts of…this?

Another moan met his ears, this time around a particular word but the resulting thunder drowned out the last half and he was unable to haul it back to his brain. He placed his hands on Belle’s door, sending out a pulse of magic, making it easier to hear over the building storm, and promised to loathe himself later for his perversion.

Little needy whimpers floated along the magic back to him and he let out a shuddering breath. Her sounds were the most beautiful music to him and he craved more. He sent out another pulse, doubling the amplification and was rewarded with a noise that shocked him to his core.

“ _ Rumple! _ ” 

_ His name.  _ She’d called  _ his _ name in pleasure. The knowledge undid him, his fingers curling into desperate claws against the door, an aroused growl rising from his throat. Shoving all good sense to the back of his mind, he let a little of the darkness take over as he tested the door handle, finding to his great surprise that it was unlocked.

He entered her room, his magic silencing any creak the door might make. A fire still crackled in the hearth, sending amber light across the floor to her bed where she was sprawled wantonly on top of the covers. Her shadow chased up the wall, the silhouette pleasuring herself in time with her mistress. 

Belle’s nightgown was bunched around her waist, one hand at her breast again while the other played between her spread legs. An obscene, wet noise met his ears as she slid a finger inside herself and he nearly groaned aloud, sliding his hand to the leather trousers confining his cock and giving himself a squeeze.

Thunder echoed across the midnight sky as she slid her fingers out of herself and swirled them around her clitoris, a shuddering moan erupting from her open mouth. Her moan drew out one of his and he froze, watching as her fingers slowed and her eyes slid open, pinning him with a hot gaze.

He stood paralyzed while she stared for a long moment, waiting for her to scream or curse and start throwing things. But she didn’t. She held his gaze, a sliver of challenge entering hers as she slid her fingers back into her cunt, working herself harder than before. Her brow creased with a desperate frown but her eyes stayed open, locked to his, as her motions grew more frantic, her breathing more labored. Thunder shook the air around them as he watched her eyes glaze over, her orgasm wracking her body and pulling harsh, raw moans from her throat.

She came back to herself slowly, her eyes fluttering closed long enough for him to think her asleep. She opened her eyes again, pinning him with the same hot gaze and he stood dumbstruck at the clear lust for him he saw there.

“Belle,” he choked out, his hand still gripping his cock through his trousers. A sly, tired smile curved her lips and she beckoned him with one finger.

“Come here, Rumple.”

He started forward jerkily, his steps unsure despite the longing in his veins. She sat up, swinging her legs over the side of her bed, her nightgown falling back into place and hiding her body from his view. He stopped in front of her, his mind blank with desire. She quickly divested him of his clothing, stripping him down to the skin he normally found ugly and tried to hide. The fire coasted heat across his back and Belle slid off the bed, standing before him to lift her nightgown over her head, tossing it away.

Her sexual confidence of earlier dimmed somewhat before him and he frowned as she brought up her arms to cover herself, ducking her head shyly.

“What’s all this?” He slid gentle hands up her forearms where they crossed over her breasts, gently pulling them away so he could see her pale skin lit with amber from the fire. “Shy over such beauty?”

She bit her lip, her cheeks reddening but she brought her gaze back to his, worry clear in their blue depths. For what? Surely she knew how delicious she was, how ripe and made for him her body was? Could she not see? He released her arms, cupping her face with both hands.

“We can stop,” he whispered, bumping his nose against hers affectionately. “I won’t take anything you don’t want to give.”

She shook her head, nearly dislodging his hands.

“No! I want this. I want—I want  _ you. Please. _ ” 

He smiled, warmth filling him at her confession, the silly worry that she would never see him the same as he saw her fading in the glow of the fire and her sweet words. He released her face, sliding his hands down her body and scooping her into his arms. He set her down on the bed, crawling on top after her and lowering his body to hers.

He nearly leaped out of his skin at the feel of her soft, lush curves pressed against him. She angled her face up and he realized with a start that he’d yet to kiss her. Growling at his stupidity, he lowered his head, sealing his mouth to hers and her answering whimper was the sweetest sound. Her hands moved to his head, her fingers sliding through his hair and he nearly purred from the pleasure it gave him. He moved out of their kiss slowly, savoring her a bit before placing soft, sucking little kisses down her neck to her breasts. He slid an arm underneath her, raising her a bit towards his mouth as he bent to suckle her. She gasped, fingers sliding back to his hair and tightening in reward each time he mouthed her in a way she liked.

Releasing her breasts and removing his arm from underneath her, he kissed and sucked his way down, flicking his tongue into her navel, grinning as her giggle transformed to a whimper as he spread her thighs and settled between them.

The thunder started once more, off in the distance as he inhaled her, the salt-sweet scent of her overwhelming him and driving all thoughts of finesse out of his head. He pressed an open-mouthed kiss to her folds, sliding his tongue through her and moaning at her taste. Heaven. She was heaven, exactly as he’d imagined and he feasted on her, wrapping his hands around her thighs and drawing her legs over his shoulders.

She moaned unabashedly as he devoured his prize, pressing herself to his mouth in supplication and he grinned as he sucked at her, growling as he worshipped her in return.

He slid his mouth upwards, latching around her clitoris to suckle her there, too. The little pearl throbbed against his tongue as she yelped and thunder followed her with a deep, close rumble. He brought a hand up, sliding two fingers into her depths, and moaned at the tight, wet feeling of her, the silken press around his fingers. His eyes rolled back in his head as he imagined her on his cock.

She writhed as he sucked and thrust, her movements growing erratic, her moans getting higher, faster, closer together as the storm raged hard above them. Her cunt began fluttering around his fingers and he kept up the thrusting and sucking, watching with no small amount of awe as great bolts of lightning split the sky, over and over, illuminating her at the exact moment her back bowed upwards and she came against his face.   
  
Her spasms were long, drawn out by the press of his fingers inside her and his tongue worrying her clitoris. The lightning slowed, then stopped as he gentled his touches and she came back down, slumping onto the bed with an exhausted, shuddering sigh. He slid her legs from his shoulders and kissed back up her body, relishing her tiny whimpers at the press of his lips against her sensitive skin.

He nestled his hips between her spread thighs, leaning down to kiss her and she responded eagerly, pressing her hips up to meet his and moaning. He reached down, lining them up and slowly slid into her hot, slick cunt, the sensation driving him mad with pleasure. He moaned, pressing to the hilt and sealing himself against her. He scanned her face, looking for pain or regret but a cheeky smile was all that met him. He laughed softly, brushing hair out of her face tenderly before pulling back and thrusting back in. He watched her eyes glaze and her mouth drop open, the sight destroying the remaining shred if his self-control. He stayed above her like that, watching her face as he thrust, the lost, helpless look of pleasure she wore the most potent aphrodisiac he could devise.

Thunder rolled through the sky as he made love to her, stirring his cock inside her in ways that made his body tremble in time with hers. She grew frantic in her motions, gasping and sliding her hands across his skin to grab whatever part of him she could, anchoring herself to him. She pulled him down into a soul-melting kiss as he pounded into her, bolts of unearthly delight shooting from his groin through the rest of his body every time he sank inside her.

Her legs locked around his hips and he pressed his face into her neck, gasping against her skin as he felt her flutter around his cock. She let out a shout, canting her hips upwards sharply, her hands digging into his ass to press him close as she screamed her pleasure, lightning flashing bright enough to illuminate even his closed eyes. Her fluttering, squeezing channel sent him over the edge and he poured himself into her with shouts of his own, clinging desperately to her as his body emptied in a heated rush of bliss.

He collapsed against her, Belle stroking his hair as their breathing calmed and he shrank inside her. After what felt like hours, Belle stirred, lifting a hand from his head.

“Rumple, look.”

He turned, following her finger to where it pointed at the glass of her window. Past it was the clearest night sky he’d seen in ages, white stars twinkling in the inky blue-blackness, not a wisp of a night cloud in sight.

“It was you,” he whispered. “Your storms, Belle. Your magic.”

“ _ My _ magic?” Incredulity laced her murmur. “But how? I’m not—”

He hushed her gently, placing a reverent kiss to her lips, lingering when she hummed in sleepy contentment.

“Tomorrow, love. Hmm?”

She nodded, snuggling against him. He settled himself, his head pillowed on her breasts as he gazed out the window and let the peaceful crackling of the fire and the cadence of her heart lull him to sleep, their arms wrapped protectively around one another.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow they would figure out how the storms became magically connected to Belle and her pleasure. But for now, sleep.


End file.
